Wednesday, January 9, 2013

winter was the year for sleeping

it's a poetry kind of week.
















winter was the year for sleeping
a thousand evenings under this cold moon.
a thousand days were taken too

at first the frost—quick, sharp, breathless
the fear, the struggle…
soon, the stupor, the freezing,
the letting go
the sleeping.
my ‘hour of Lead’
and time, time, time
fluid, though frozen,
watch ticking, but broken
slipping, but still
And winter was the year for sleeping
a time living, but not dreaming
a time dreaming, but not living
time. mechanical.
ticking, but unmoving.
And when outlived,
the shivered throwing open of
that sleepy-eyed wake
from a solemn procession
and a face half-buried, but breathing
And if it takes ten thousand years
to remember how to live
to throw away the watch, and
recollect the sun
and the warmth
and the golden threads that tangle and tie us in life
I will cut the yarns which tie myself in solitude

it is not without struggle
it is not without confusion,
that I hear the call to wake
that I lift my lids and brace
a thaw
an unlacing, silent picking at the solitary laces
sleep, sleep, sleep
is for the dead.
And it’s cold in my room
a naked foot to the floor sends shivers
but the alarm
the alarm
the alarm

Is at the thought of sleeping but not dreaming
is at the thought of living, but not.







<Last 'clever' post: Cold Hands

4 comments:

  1. This is very nice.

    ReplyDelete
  2. K, a friend posted this yesterday on instagram - apparently he saw it on your good friend reddit ;):

    "Try to imagine a life without timekeeping.

    You probably cant. You know the month, the year, the day of the week. There is a clock on your wall or the dashboard of your car. You have a schedule, a calendar, a time for dinner or a movie.

    Yet all around you, timekeeping is ignored. Birds are not late. A dog does not check its watch. Deer do not fret over passing birthdays.

    Man alone measures time.

    Man alone chimes the hour.

    And, because of this, man alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creature endures.

    A fear of time running out."

    I did some googling, and it's from Mitch Albom's "The Time Keeper"

    ReplyDelete

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